


Dimitri and The Dragon

by mitsuboo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A Lot of Awkwardness, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Headcanon, Romantic Comedy, a lot of awkward pining, except byleth isn't a vampire, not very much angst, this is basically a twilight au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsuboo/pseuds/mitsuboo
Summary: With new discoveries coming to light of an ancient race of dragon-like people, Dimitri can’t help but see the similarities between the Nabateans, and his chemistry lab partner, Byleth Eisner. It seems impossible that a college student could be an immortal dragon from a 1,000 years ago, yet Byleth herself is an impossible sort of person.There are snakes in the dark, and he's only human. Reading these dumb vampire books don't help his predicament in the least.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 34
Kudos: 83





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a Twilight rip off. No, I am not ashamed.

**Prologue**

**An Introduction to The Most Unpleasant of Reptiles**

**Or**

**How Dimitri Died**

Dimitri had never given much thought to how his life would end. 

He was human, and a simple one at that. He could not tell the future, nor could he choose it. If he could have, he would’ve chosen the location to be a soft bed, perhaps 50 years from now, surrounded by family. He would’ve chosen something painless and gentle. He would’ve chosen a hospital, even, to be a dying old man in. 

Anything but this. 

Soft skin and easily torn muscle tendons barely kept him together as he lay in the filthy sewer drain. Cold rain water mixed with city trash seeped through his clothes and stuck to his skin. He lifted his head to keep his injured right eye from being infected with the mold emboldened water. His head pounded with every small movement he took. 

There were no cars to save him. He wondered how the Agarthans managed that, to hold off traffic on an entire street in Fhirdiad. Even the streetlights above him were turned off, covering him a blanket of darkness. Golden eyes flashed out at him from the alleyways like cats. 

They were human once. They were just like him, once. They were what he could become, if he tried. Magical, pale skinned, rats living underground. Thales was a reflection of what humanity could become if they were determined enough. 

“Poor little boy,” a hiss, through sharpened teeth, followed by soft footsteps against the sidewalk, “Where’s your dragon now? That  _ thing  _ won’t come for you.”

That  _ thing  _ was the love of his life. That  _ thing  _ was in his future, by his side in his much preferred death. She would be young and beautiful forever, of course, while he would wrinkle over the years like a prune. He found himself more content with that option than ever. 

It was for that, the future that awaited him, that he rolled over onto his side and began pushing himself up from the ground. His muscles screamed, his eyesight blurred, his skull pounded. Warm blood painted his cheek down from his right eye. The world around him turned and twisted until his arm gave out and he found himself face first on the cobblestone street once more. It was the older part of Fhirdiad, where the buildings told stories, where the streets were made of mismatched stones and would tear up the shocks of any car driving over them. The Agarthans made their homes where they had always lived: in the past. 

“Byleth,” it was a whisper into the ground, as he attempted to push himself up once more, “Byleth.”

“Calling for her, little human? She won’t come.”

Why  _ wouldn’t  _ she? He scowled at the thought of them hurting her, as he knew they wished to. He half wished that she  _ wouldn’t  _ come to find him, not with their ill intent towards her and her kind. He lifted his head to look at the figure standing above him. 

Thales was old, older than Byleth. He wore a long, black jacket, with slicked back hair and golden eyes. He leaned forward with one leather boot and crushed Dimitri’s fingers underneath it. 

He cried out in pain. There was nobody around to hear him, nobody that was human. Gritting his teeth, he shut his mouth and tried to ignore the feeling of his broken fingers underneath Thales’ foot. 

“You shouldn’t know about this,” the non-human nightmare whispered, leaning down. The puddle of dirty sewer water that gathered in the excess of the road rippled with his movement as he took another step towards Dimitri. “Thus, you must die. If we get your kind involved, then…”

Then they would be threatened. The Nabateans weren’t enough to threaten them, but the humans were. Dimitri was simply a loose end that must be tied. 

Byleth had tried to warn him of her world. She had told him so clearly, that there were scary things in Fodlan. There were inhuman, terrifying forces. There were self made Gods, and they had no mercy left to give. 

He had stepped into this world so willingly. He had followed her, a devout believer who kept at her heels wherever she went. He didn’t regret an instant of it. 

He was happy to simply know her. If he would have to die for this decision, he was glad it involved knowing Byleth. Knowing her, loving her, living for her. He never thought that love would be so strong. 

What would his father think? What would Patricia and Edelgard think? Would they be fed a story of how he was mugged in the old district, stabbed for his wallet? Would the Agarthans launch their attack after his death? Would he be the catalyst for humanity’s destruction? 

Dimitri opened his mouth to force out a final breath. His head kept pounding, as his vision began to fade to black. He only had a few more seconds before his concussion and broken bones would overtake him. 

His voice was so strained that it did not even sound like him anymore, “Stay away from Byleth.” 

Thales tilted his head, and he smiled. He looked down at Dimitri on the ground as if he were a child that had simply skinned his knee, rather than a half dead human who was in too deep. 

“I’ll be sure to give her your regards.”

He lifted another foot, this time aimed for his head. One more hit, and his concussion would be the end of him. Dimitri shut his good eye, his left one. His right eye was numb against the pain the rest of his body felt, though he could taste the iron of his own blood on his lips and tongue. 

This was the end, and for what? He never thought he would die at 19, simply because he fell in love. He didn’t feel as if she was wrong, either. Byleth could never be wrong, especially not for him. 

He did not hear the sound of footsteps approaching on the wet sidewalk. He did not hear the ragged gasps, or the sharp noise of a sword unsheathing from a scabbard. He did not hear the scream, or the growl, or the whirl of modern day magic around his ears. 

He closed his good eye, and the world plunged into darkness. 


	2. College, and All of It's Nonsense

College was meant to be a time of exploration, of wonder and adventure. College was meant to be for parties and getting away from home. College was a new chapter in life. College was where one would discover who they were, and who they _would_ be. 

Sadly enough, it had already been discovered what Dimitri was. 

That is, an absolute disappointment. 

Lambert was trying, he truly was. He was begging and pleading. He was using his puppy eyes, which actually proved creepy on the face of a middle aged man. He was trying to wrestle his only son into making a decision that was the complete opposite of what he wanted, something he promised he’d never do. But this was important, and this was college. Adventure, discovery, wonder, and new chapters. He would break his own rules about being the cool dad just this once. 

“I’ll pay for you to go to Derdriu, Dima. I’ll pay for you to go to Enbarr! I’ll pay for you to go _anywhere_ but Fhirdiad!”

What was wrong with Fhirdiad? Dimitri didn’t want to go to Derdriu or Enbarr, he wanted to stay in Fhirdiad. 

“I thought you’d be happy I was staying close by,” nonchalantly, he thumbed through the hardback textbook in his lap, eyes on the pages, “Most parents don’t want their children to move across the country for college.”

“But you’ve lived in Fhirdiad your entire life!”

Dimitri glanced up, “So, I won’t get lost then.” 

“I want you to have a good time, my boy!” Lambert was bent on arguing with him, brows furrowed and mouth twisted into horror, “You can’t have a good time in the same city forever!”

He didn’t understand why, plenty of people did. Dimitri had never cared much for making a name for himself, or for traveling, or for having adventures. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was he cared about, but it certainly was not a prestigious college on the other end of Fodlan. 

He leveled his gaze onto Lambert’s. His father, a mirror of himself, with blue eyes and sunshine hair that had a tendency for cowlicks. Desperation colored his features now. Dimitri felt a flicker of guilt come to life in his chest. 

“Father, I…”

Lambert parted his lips. He held a plain white coffee mug between his hands, as he leaned on the small dining room table. It was morning, and bright outside, as far as Dimitri could see through the blue floral curtains. It was the day before he moved into his college dorm, and the table was stacked with hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks. 

Lambert watched him. Dimitri closed his book and set it atop the pile, “I understand, really I do.”

“But do you?”

He did. Lambert always questioned that, if Dimitri really did understand. He’d grown used to defending himself over the years from his father’s suffocating concern. “I know, but it’s kind of nice, right?” A forced smile, an attempt to look enthusiastic, “I’m going to the same college you did!”

Lambert’s face fell into seriousness, “I went to Fhirdiad University because I had a football scholarship and two dollars to my name. You have no idea how badly I wanted to have the opportunities _you_ have, Dima. I would’ve jumped at the chance to get out of here.”

This house, with yellow walls and blue curtains, chipped paint on the siding and a new roof job. This house, which Lambert grew up in, inherited from his father. He had wanted so badly to get away from there, the city and the house both, that he could not even begin to understand why Dimitri would choose to stay. 

There were other options. They had enough money, they had the opportunity. Dimitri knew this, though he remained diligent to not care about it. 

“Dad,” he started slow, soft, “my friends are all here.”

A good reason, but not good enough for Lambert. “You’ve got Instabook, or that, uh, Facegram thing, right? Talk to them there!”

Instagram, Facebook. Dimitri didn’t care much for social media anyway, nor did he text very well. He doubted that he would be good at keeping in touch long distance. “I want to talk to them in person.”

“I’ll pay for every single plane ticket!”

Dimitri furrowed his brows. The guilt that had begun to bloom was now gone, replaced by suspicion. “Why do you want me to leave so badly?”

“I want you to have adventures!”

“I don’t care about adventures,” he huffed and stood from his chair, the bottom legs making an ugly scraping sound against the kitchen tile. He watched Lambert flinch, and let out a heavy sigh to calm his guilty heart, “Father, really, it’s just… it’s just too much to think about going anywhere else.”

Turning around, Dimitri set to work on the coffee maker. He needed something to do with his hands, to distract him enough from the concern painting his father’s face. He emptied the filter into the trash and rinsed it out, feeling Lambert’s eyes on his back as he worked silently. 

A moment passed. Lambert tapped on the rim of his mug absently. His brows were furrowed. In the other room, Patricia could be heard coming down the creaking stairs with Edelgard in tow. 

Patricia’s words were muffled. The walls of the old house were thick and sturdy, despite its frequent groans of pain. Dimitri had always thought his house was haunted as a child, before he understood that it was just the walls telling their stories. The stories of the Blaiddyds, so many generations being far too stubborn to move. His great-great-great grandfather had built this home from foundation up. 

And he was stubborn too. He was far more stubborn than Lambert liked to see. 

“I think it’ll help your… er, your problems, Dima.”

He sighed and pushed a button on the coffee maker, watching it hum. He moved towards the fridge, “Do we have any creamer left?”

“Your sister used it all.”

Wonderful. He grabbed the milk instead and set it on the counter beside his empty mug, still warm from the dishwasher. Lambert kept watching with his worried gaze, “Is the medication doing anything for you?”

“It’s fine, dad.”

“But is it doing anything? It can’t just be fine, it needs to be better than fine.”

“Dad,” Dimitri whipped around to face him, though he forced his expression to remain neutral, pleading almost, as it often did when this conversation reared its ugly head, “I’m okay, really. I just know my limitations, okay? I…”

Patricia laughed from the other room. A door shut, and her voice became muffled once more. He could hear Edelgard set a mug down, the one filled with the rest of the creamer. Dimitri turned back to his cup and stirred the milk around with a glare. 

He knew his limitations, there was nothing more to explain about that. He knew that he wouldn’t make it outside of Fhirdiad, where he knew nobody, where the streets were unfamiliar, where the accents were different. It was not a dislike of new experiences, it was a dislike of putting himself in potentially stressful situations. His medication could only do so much. 

And it did work fine. It was fine, just as all the others were. Fine. Fine. He was fine, and would continue to be so, because he was staying in Fhirdiad, in a dorm just two miles away from the house he grew up in. 

He needed his friends and family nearby. He needed the bakery and coffee shop down the street. He needed the cold breezes in the middle of summer, and the blizzards in the dead of winter. He needed the grey skies and the mountains and the elevated air. He needed this terrible coffee that was sold at the convenience store down the block. He needed the velvet black nights, and camping on the mountains. 

Lambert remained quiet. He took another sip of his coffee, his lawyer face on. He was forming the thoughts that would win him this case, it was an expression Dimitri often saw him wear. He sighed and turned towards his father, “I'm asking you to trust me.”

The lawyer-face melted. He was his father again, “I do trust you, Dima.”

“Then trust that this is the best decision for my mental health.”

“I… I just want you to have what I couldn’t.”

“And I will,” he sat in the chair across from him, warm mug in hand. He nudged the stack of textbooks aside and reached over to give a quick, friendly squeeze to his hand, “We’re different, dad, we’ll live different types of lives no matter _where_ I choose to go to college.”

A sigh. Hesitant defeat. He forced himself to accept it, “Just don’t study law.”

He grinned, “I promise I’ll try to resist the urge.”

Lambert offered a laugh. The conversation was over for the time being. It was a conversation they’d had for a year now, since Dimitri began applying for local colleges towards the end of his highschool graduation. He had tried to keep his applications secret, but Lambert found the acceptance letters in the mail, with the insignia of the lion on the largest envelope. He knew that insignia, he wore sweatshirts with that insignia, he played football for that insignia. He had been a lion so many years ago. Dimitri could hide it no longer. 

Thus, began the arguments. It was from a place of concern on Lambert’s part, who only wished the best for his son. He had been stuck in Fhirdiad for his entire life, and wished for Dimitri to do what he could not. Even if he trusted him to make the best decisions for his depression, the regret of not pushing for Enbarr or Derdriu university still lingered in his chest. 

Dimitri was odd like that. He was content, but so aimless. He was smart, but didn’t have much to put that towards. He was unchallenged, thought Lambert, and would do far better at a university that brought out his true potential. Not Fhirdiad, not this place his family had been for generations, and certainly not the half baked professors that taught there. 

Lambert’s opinions of his son’s choices were not high. Patricia, wisely, stayed out of it. 

Edelgard was an entirely different matter. She was artistic, a painter, a sculptor, a sketch artist. She had even made home movies, starring her parents and Dimitri, set in their backyard. They weren’t masterpieces, but Patricia and Lambert swore up and down that they _could_ be, if she had the right training. Edelgard had been accepted to the first college she applied to, the sister school of the Fhirdiad University, Fhirdiad School for the Arts. 

That would mean she would be separated from her step-brother. They had been together from elementary through high school. Dimitri was one grade above her, and while not attached at the hip, the siblings tended to stick together when it mattered the most. When Edelgard worked on the school’s production of Hamilton, he was always there to pick her up from practice. When Edelgard was on the track team, Dimitri would always drive her to her next race. When Edelgard had a date with some goth kid she met in show choir, he would chaperone her date from afar. 

And he wondered if it would be different, now. They were going to separate colleges, their campuses on two different ends of town. He would still be her older brother, if she needed that, but he supposed that she wouldn’t accept it even then. The constants of his life were bound to change eventually, and going to Fhirdiad University was the one thing he could keep the closest to normal among all of these changes. 

Patricia and Lambert were far more encouraging when it came to Edelgard simply because she wasn’t on Prozac, and she didn’t need new surroundings to help her mental health. Edelgard went on camping trips, she went on road trips, she explored, she dated, she had fun. She was rather normal. There was very little reason to be concerned for Edelgard. 

Dimitri, on the other hand, did none of that. Thus, in Lambert’s mind, he was due for an adventure. 

“Plus,” he took another long sip from his coffee, then set it down with a nod, “I don’t like the weather in Derdriu. Too hot.”

Lambert huffed, “You’ve never even been there!”

“I can check the weather on Google. I _know_ it’s too hot.”

Lambert groaned and stood up from the table, “You’re impossible. Fine, whatever. Stay here forever, marry some girl you’ve known since 2nd grade, be… I don’t know, be a firefighter and save cats from the trees you’ve climbed since you were a kid. I don’t care!” He put his mug into the sink and rinsed it out, “Whatever makes you happy, weirdo!”

The dramatics. He sighed, “I’ll have plenty of new experiences at the University as well. You forget that people usually travel long distances to attend Fhirdiad.”

It was an exaggeration. Some students _did_ travel to attend Fhirdiad, but not nearly as much as the other colleges available in Fodlan. It was not as if Fhirdiad had much to offer - Arianrhod was the true college town of Faerghus - and it was far too cold for many people. It was one of the least traveled to colleges of Fodlan, and Dimitri knew that. But there were bound to be one or two students from out of the country there. 

Lambert knew this as well. He rolled his eyes and stepped out of the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him. Dimitri listened to his muffled yell through the walls, “Patricia, baby, Dimitri’s being stupidly optimistic again!”

His step mother was outside planting another flower in their sprawling front yard garden. The windows to the house were open, letting the cool breeze flow in and out as it pleased. He could barely hear her melodic laugh, and her soft voice as she responded through the open window, “Leave him alone, Lamby, let the boy dream.”

If only. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he took another sip of coffee. The door to the kitchen swung wide to reveal Edelgard, her lips set into a grimace as she made her way to the sink. Her coffee was half drunk, and nearly white from all the creamer. She poured it out and leaned on the counter, “They’re being gross in the living room again.”

A muffled laugh from said room, followed by affectionate silence. Dimitri kept his eyes on his pile of textbooks, feeling slightly nauseous from how much many they all cost. He envied Edelgard and how little she spent on her art program. 

“Just ignore them, they’ll get bored eventually.” 

“You okay?”

He perked out of his reverie, and cast her a glance. Her hair was getting long, brushing against the top of the counter, but it was smooth and silky. She always looked put together, even this early in the morning, while Dimitri suffered from a wicked bedhead and itchy pajama bottoms. It was rare to see concern pass over her face, though he could catch the flicker of it behind her steely eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he stood and ran his hand through his hair, “just thinking about tomorrow.”

“Are you done packing?”

“Mostly,” he pressed his lips together, “I’ve just got to figure out how to stuff it all in my car.”

Edelgard pulled her phone from her pocket. She wore shorts today, with a pair of red tights underneath. She looked ready for a party rather than a peaceful morning in her home. She hummed as she scrolled through her calendar, “I think I’ve got time to help you. But after 11 I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Dorothea.”

He smiled and wrapped his hands together behind his back, “May I ask for what?”

She bristled and clenched her fist, “We’re protesting.”

“Again?”

“Someone’s got to defend the little people,” Edelgard shrugged and pushed away from the counter, walking towards the door, “Come on, we’re running out of daylight.”

It was 7 a.m. and she thought they were running out of daylight. She had always been like that, so busy, such an overachiever. Dimitri found himself entirely too average in comparison. 

As he and Edelgard stuffed the rest of his clothes into his luggage, he thought of his life in this room. It’s blue walls, it’s stain on the ceiling, it’s view of the backyard. He thought of him and his friends sitting in front of his old tv and playing racing games. He thought of his family, how they wouldn’t be too far away, but far enough. 

The day went by in a blur. Edelgard went to her protest, Patricia planted another flower, and Lambert eventually stopped nagging Dimitri long enough to work on his latest case. Dimitri found himself laying in his bed for an hour, staring at the now empty walls in serene mental silence. 

Dinner came and went. Meatloaf. He lied to Patricia that it tasted good, though he couldn’t taste a thing. He took a shower, and went to bed early. He couldn’t remember a thing he did that day, besides argue with his father, and pack his bags. 

The next day was like a bullet in the back. 

It was time to leave home, into his new chapter. 

* * *

Dimitri had toured Fhirdiad University, of course, but it seemed even tinier than before. Somehow, and in someway, it had shrunk since he last visited. 

He walked down the crowded hallway with his schedule in hand. Familiar faces flitted around him, though rarely did they greet him with anything more than a friendly smile. Perhaps it was the lion banners taking up space on the walls, or the crowds of his former high school classmates, but the hallway felt as if it would close in on him as he walked. There were no lockers, yet there were bulletin boards and posters advertising various clubs and houses to join. This was the science building, which connected to the history and literature building, which connected to the library, which was across from the men’s dormitories. Dimitri could step outside and see the entire campus laid out before him. 

He _already_ needed fresh air. His first class had not even started yet and he was finding himself claustrophobic. He wasn’t sure what it was that sunk down into his throat, but it was stifling. Changes were never much fun, but a necessary evil. 

He made his way to the double glass doors at the end of the hallway. He stood on the front steps and gazed across to the parking lot where he was to meet his father. He was supposed to be pulling up in his car, parking right next to Dimitri’s old, beat up Honda that awaited him outside of the dorm buildings. He caught sight of several other familiar faces unloading their own supplies from their various cars. 

A flash of red hair, a wolfish grin. Sylvain was showing off, pulling a flatscreen TV from the backseat of his Kia. He glanced at a passing girl and gave her an arrogant, flirtatious nod.   
  


Dimitri knew that Sylvain would be staying in the dorms as well, even going so far as to make sure his dorm room was near his. Felix would be his roommate, unfortunately for him, and was currently leaning against his car, watching Sylvain struggle to get the TV through the dormitory doors. 

Dimitri had opted for a randomly assigned roommate, which both shocked and pleased Lambert. His enrollment papers mentioned that his name was ‘Dedue Molinaro’ - a normal enough name, for hopefully a normal man. 

He continued down the steps of the science building and walked along the sidewalk to the dorm rooms. The best aspect of the Fhirdiad campus were the trees. They were tall and thick, full of squirrels and birds. The grass was green this time of year, with only small patches of yellow as autumn began to set in. He cut across the lawn and made his way towards his car, the one with the dent right above the license plate. 

“Eyyyyy!”

Dimitri ignored Sylvain and began to work on the bungee cords covering the top of his Honda. An extra bag he couldn’t fit into the backseat had been strapped down to the top by bright neon orange cords. He loosened one, his back to Sylvain as he worked. 

“Dimmaaaa!”

He could hear Felix scoff. He imagined there was an eye roll in there somewhere. 

“Dima, help me bro! I’m gonna drop it!”

The TV. Dimitri had watched many a terrible horror film upon that TV. He’d played so much Mariokart on it. He abandoned his strapped down bag and turned towards the source of his plea, “Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

Sylvain grinned while Dimitri rushed to take the other end of his load. He hoisted it into his hands, “Thanks man. Why didn’t you say hi earlier?”

“I’m waiting for my family to show up.”Through the doors and towards the stairs, slipping past crowds of people attempting to move in as well. 

A scoff, “Why?”

“Because…” confusion, mild irritation, “I’m moving out of the house and need help?”

Sylvain shrugged, causing the television to shift more into Dimitri’s arms, “Your dad’s gonna cry.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d _cry_. That was _one time,_ and it was years ago. Dimitri had taken Ingrid to prom simply because neither of them had dates - Glenn was on duty for the military and couldn’t make it. They went as friends, and made that very clear to Lambert. It did not stop the one shining tear in the corner of his eye as he and Patricia insisted on very awkward pictures for 10 whole minutes.

Sylvain never forgot. Dimitri felt a stirring in his chest to defend his father, “He’ll be fine. He’ll just want to take some family photos.”

“Don’t take that for granted, Dima.”

He knew. He knew how important it was, and it was one reason why he wanted to be so close to his family. Traveling across the country to attend another college would mean his family wouldn’t be there to help him move in, to take photos and to be embarrassing on campus. Sylvain didn’t have that opportunity, and never would. His brother and his father wouldn’t dare to show that kind of affection. 

Taking one step at a time, the two finally made it up the stairs to Sylvain’s dorm. He set the TV down in the hallway and worked on opening his door, while Dimitri glanced out of the large window that looked down on the campus below. 

Most of the students outside the window were shadowed by the trees. It was only the second floor, the dormitory having four of them stacked on top of each other. The elevators weren’t working today, which proved unfortunate for the other tired college students carrying their furniture up the stairwells. Dimitri wasn’t as red-faced and huffy as the others, but his arms ached with the weight of the TV. 

Outside of the window, he caught a flash of pastel green. His eyes followed the color without thought, until the girl wearing it disappeared behind the trunk of a thick tree below. Behind him, Sylvain finally pushed the door open. “Damn lock needs to be fixed.”

Dimitri picked up the other end of the tv and moved it through the doorway, setting it down on the empty table in the corner of the room. Sylvain huffed and stepped away with his hands on his hips. “That was terrible. Do you need help getting anything in?”

Dimitri pressed his lips together in thought. The biggest thing he brought was his stack of books and his bed sheets, and they wouldn’t take much effort to move up the stairs. He didn’t care much for bringing full sets of furniture, or showy television sets. “Just my clothes and a few essentials, really. I’ll take care of it.”

His eyes shone with sudden interest, “Have you met your roommate yet?” 

Dimitri shrugged as he made his way back to the door, “Nope. His name is Dedue Molinaro, though, I’m sure I’ll see him soon.”

“What kinda name is that?” Sylvain followed him out, “Is he foreign?”

“Don’t know.”

“Huh, weird.”

It wasn’t _too_ weird, he thought. It was a normal name. He and Sylvain went down the stairs and through the lobby, outside again. He was grateful for the blast of cool air that hit his cheeks as he left the building. Felix remained in his spot by his car, glaring down at the phone in his hand. 

Sylvain left his side to complain at his roommate about the lack of assistance. Felix merely sneered, their conversation ineligible to Dimitri’s ears. The campus moved with energy around him. 

A group of students sat in the grass, laying on a picnic blanket. There were people from other school districts in attendance as well, but he’d known them all of his life too. He’d raced against them in track, he’d watched their football games, he’d played baseball against them. If he didn’t know their names, he knew their faces. Only a small bit of people in the crowd _weren’t_ familiar to his memory. 

Down the road, he caught sight of his father’s car pulling up slowly through the throngs of bright-eyes students. He smiled at the thought of Lambert behind the wheel in this crowded campus, resisting the urge to yell at the teenagers loitering in the street. With several on skateboards that weaved between cars, he heard a familiar honk and couldn’t help but laugh. It was sheer chaos with the traffic of everybody trying to move into their dorms as quickly as possible. He’d never know why the college preferred everybody to move on the exact same day. 

Dimitri set to work on getting his bag off the top of his car and throwing it over his shoulder. It took minutes for Lambert to approach through the traffic, and several more for him to find a place to park. He caught sight of Edelgard watching through the back window with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 

He pulled out another bag from his backseat before he went to greet his family down the line of parked cars. Patricia popped out of the passenger seat and spread her arms wide for him, immediately wrapping him into a tight, motherly hug. 

“Dima! My boy!” She was squealing into his ear, “You’re growing up!”

He gave an awkward laugh, “Sorry about that.”

He watched over Patricia’s shoulder as Edelgard stepped out of the backseat and stretched. She cast a glare to a group of slackers loitering on the grass nearby, before turning to her step brother. She wouldn’t hug him, she wouldn’t dare, but she appraised him with a mixture of pride and suspicion. 

“Met your roommate yet?”

Patricia pulled away in anticipation to hear the answer. Lambert climbed out of the car and locked it’s doors. Dimitri avoided his gaze and looked at Edelgard, “No, Sylvain thinks he might be foreign.”

Lambert broke into a wicked grin, “Have you met any girls yet?”

It was a question Dimitri knew was coming. He sighed, and glanced at his step mother and step sister, “There are some girls right here, is that good enough?”

“They’re related to you! I mean _girls_.”

Patricia gave her husband a light punch in the arm, “ _We’re_ girls. We’re the only girls he needs.”

Edelgard wrinkled her nose, “Ew.”

Dimitri echoed, though he was smiling, “Ew.”

Lambert laughed. The sound was a comfort, he loved his father’s laugh. It was booming and big. It filled a room. It felt like hot chocolate on a cold day. He’d miss hearing it every morning, against the blare of a news talk show with the smell of bacon in the skillet. Dimitri hated that he was already getting homesick, with so little time spent away from it already. 

He shouldered one heavy bag and handed another off to his father. Edelgard and Patricia walked ahead towards the doors of the building, though Lambert quickly overtook the family as he noticed a familiar face ahead. “Rodrigue!”

Patricia groaned, “We’ll be here all day now.”

Her complaint went ignored. Dimitri felt his own personal pleasure at seeing the Fraldarius man. Lambert nearly tackled him with a bear hug. The bag that hung off his shoulder nearly knocked him down with the impact of his affection.

They laughed, and Felix scowled. Dimitri couldn’t help but smile. Out of the corner of his eye, another flash of pastel green attracted his attention. 

When he looked up, the color was gone. 

“Dimitri!” Rodrigue stretched around Lambert to catch a glimpse of him, “My boy! Stay and take a picture with us!”

His gaze slid to Felix, who had been handed a plastic dollar store camera, the one Lambert always insisted on using. Felix looked down at it in his hands as if it was a dead fish. Dimitri set his bag down against the wall, “You know that phones have cameras, right?”

Lambert frowned, “I can’t print them off my phone!”  
  


Edelgard sighed, “Yes, you can.”

“Nonsense! Come’re! You too, Edie. Come on.”

He stretched out an arm that Patricia took eagerly. She fit into his side like a puzzle piece, leaning against him and wrapping an arm around his waist. Edelgard took her other side and hid half behind her with an awkward, forced smile. Rodrigue glanced at Dimitri as if his spot was obvious: at his arm, with the family who loved him so. 

Felix glared behind the camera. Dimitri tried to look past his shoulder to avoid the nasty expression on his face, trying to not see the jealousy and dislike behind his eyes. His voice was monotone as he held up the plastic camera, “Okay, everybody say ‘Dimitri eats ass’.”

“Felix!”

“Ew!”

Edelgard chirped, “Dimitri eats ass!”

The flash of the camera snapped. Dimitri nearly jumped, though Rodrigue’s arm over his shoulder held him in place. His uncle sighed, “Another one, please? Just say cheese this time, Felix.”

“Fine,” a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes, “Everybody say ‘Dimitri smells like cheese’!”

“Good enough.”

The family repeated the statement with posed smiles and perfectly sculpted happiness. Dimitri kept his gaze over Felix’s shoulder as the camera snapped it’s flash once again. Pastel green, a pale face. A smile. 

She was watching him across the campus. She wore black, some kind of leather coat, with boots and shorts. Her hair was loose and wild and pushed into a frenzy from the wind. He couldn’t see much about her face, besides her smile. And her eyes, directed straight at his family. 

He glanced at them. He supposed that they _were_ taking up a lot of room on the sidewalk, and it could be funny to anybody that didn’t know them. Yet, most people did. Most people had Lambert Blaiddyd finalize their parent’s divorces, or take care of their car accidents. Most people had Patricia Blaiddyd sell them a new home. Most people in Fhirdiad knew Rodrigue’s face as the one on the bench on Main street, advertising the Blaiddyd-Fraldarius law firm. 

This girl across the campus smiled as if this was unfamiliar. She tilted her head, looking mildly confused, yet overall amused at the motley crew taking up the sidewalk so rudely. 

Felix was possibly the rudest of them all, “Ugh, fine! Everybody say ‘Dimitri sucks’!”

Edelgard grinned, “Dimitri sucks!”

A flash. Patricia leaned over to send him a look, “You weren’t smiling, Dima.”

“Oh,” he broke from his reverie and came back down from the clouds, “I apologize for my rudeness. I was just distracted.”

“Alright,” Felix raised the camera to his eye, “Everybody say, ‘Dimitri is the worst’!”

Edelgard offered a genuine smile, “Dimitri is the worst!”

Another flash. Satisfied, Felix sighed and pulled the camera away, tossing it back to Lambert’s willing hands. That last picture would be the worst, with everybody looking confused or irritated. Edelgard had her eyes closed for half of them. Patricia seemed the only one that would smile for each and every picture, she was good at things like that. 

Dimitri was ready to get away from the scene. Nobody else on the campus seemed to care much about his family’s pictures besides that girl, but that was enough to make him nervous. He picked up his bags once more, “Well, I’d like to stop blocking the entrance here and go see the room.”

“And meet your roommate!” Patricia clasped her hands together, “I hope he’s nice to you.”

He hoped he wasn’t some toenail collector, it was all he asked. “I’m sure he will be.”

Lambert hoisted the bag over his shoulder, and pushed through the doors. Rodrigue took his place next to Felix to continue their earlier discussion before the impromptu photo shoot. As Dimitri followed his father, he glanced over his shoulder out of sheer curiosity, to see if that green haired girl was still grinning at him with that odd smile of hers.

She wasn’t. Where she stood was a landscaper, blowing falling leaves off the sidewalks. His eyes raked across the campus grass, and found nothing. 

* * *

“You know, I thought that since I’d been getting up for school at 7 every day since… forever, then it would be easy now. It’s not, though, it’s really not.”

“Perhaps if you didn’t drink every night it wouldn’t be so difficult.”

Sylvain looked horrified at the suggestion. He looked as if Dimitri had slapped him across the face. “That’s a terrible idea!”

Dimitri didn’t need to read thoughts to see the evident exhaustion on his face. The dark bags under his eyes, the scowl. He felt bad for Felix having to hear Sylvain come back to the dorm at night after 5 shots of tequila and a pina colada. 

“I believe you still have time to opt out of morning classes,” Dimitri thought outloud, hoping to give Sylvain some sliver of hope in his despair, “Perhaps you could ask?”

On Dimitri’s left, Dedue stared ahead quietly. He kept his face stoney, and his mouth quiet. He rarely spoke to anybody that wasn’t his roommate, and Dimitri felt as if even that was from sheer necessity. But he was kind, and he was gentle, and he owned interesting cookbooks in different languages. A man who owned that many cook books couldn’t possibly be a bad person. 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll ask,” Sylvain rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, “I need more sleep, for sure.”

It had been only 42 hours since moving day, class had not even started yet, and Sylvain was already considering switching his schedule. He could be determined when he wanted to be, though the key word was ‘wanted’. He walked alongside Dimitri and Dedue as they moved through the morning crowd towards the history and literature building ahead. 

Women’s History AP, Sylvain had chosen. He didn’t need to explain why, everybody knew. Dimitri had a feeling it would come back to bite him in the end. 

Dimitri and Dedue shared a modern history course, an elective taken out of necessity. In the little conversation they had shared, it was revealed that neither of them were aware of what they would be majoring in. Dedue simply seemed grateful to be there in the first place, as Duscur didn’t have many options for education. Lambert had considered Fhirdiad University to be trash, but it was obviously a treasure for Dedue, making Dimitri appreciate his attendance all the more. 

Sylvain kept on groaning as the three walked. The campus did not buzz with it’s earlier energy. In Fhirdiad, the darkness always lasted longer than the night in an infinite winter. It was dim, even at this time, with the echo of lingering crickets in the grass. 

The building neared. It was old, and covered in ivy that reached up the sides like outstretched fingers. Dimitri paused to look up at the circular window on the second floor. Next to him, Dedue allowed a grimace to flicker across his face. 

“I’m gonna meet so many girls,” Sylvain kept bragging as he walked up the steps, hands behind his head, “while you two are stuck in boring modern history.”

Dimitri looked at him, “I think it’ll be quite interesting, actually.”

Sylvain didn’t look convinced, “What’s your syllabus look like?”

Dedue answered, his voice filling the air in deep baritone and eye catching confidence, somehow soft and forceful at the same time. “The first semester is about ancient civilizations, the discovery of the Nabateans.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened in interest, “Oh you mean that thing from the 80’s?”

That ‘thing from the 80’s’ was the news coverage of a new archeological discovery. A stone tablet, depicting a woman turning into a dragon. And the continuous digs happening in Zanado, as they found a buried city underneath the abandoned canyon. It was pure modern history, Dimitri wasn’t surprised that there was an entire semester based on the discoveries. They were new, in terms of academia, only 30 to 40 years old. 

“That’ll be interesting,” he offered, as if he cared what Sylvain thought about his course choices, “It might even be my major.”

He knew better than to believe Dimitri’s jest. For the Blaiddyd to spend days in the dirt, under the hot sun, dusting off stones, that would be laughable. 

Sylvain left with a hurried ‘okaaaayyy’ and nearly ran to his classroom in excitement. Dedue and Dimitri walked in sync with each other as they tried to locate the lecture hall, the syllabus didn’t provide a map, nor was there one from the school. Silent, and comfortable, they wandered. 

Dimitri supposed that he felt a bit grateful to Dedue for his patience. They had only known each for two days so far, and he’d already felt the smothering love of the Blaiddyd family - minus Edelgard. On the day he moved in, Lambert caught Dedue in a fatherly hug, while Patricia spoke about cooking with him. It was successful, oddly enough, and they exchanged phone numbers in the most awkward way possible. Even Rodrigue stopped by to give Dedue a quick hug. 

And through it all, the man of Duscur remained resilient. If he was annoyed, he didn’t show it. And Dimitri was glad that his father was too distracted to read the discomfort flashing across his face. 

They walked through the hallways together in comfortable silence, as if they were old friends who had no words left to say. Dimitri could breathe a sigh of relief as he realized that Dedue was _not_ a chatterbox, and wouldn’t force him into small talk. He didn’t expect anything from him, and that was a comfort, one he didn’t quite know he needed. 

Class passed by in a flash. He couldn’t remember one thing about the Nabateans and their lost civilization, even if he wanted to. 

He ate breakfast on the run to the literature hall. He attended a lecture on musical theory, and a lecture on philosophy. Much like the Nabateans, the information slipped out of his mind before he left the classroom. He grabbed lunch in the quiet, run down cafeteria, meeting Ingrid at an empty table to catch up through months worth of separation. After lunch, the courses ran by again, like a river that just wouldn’t stop. 

4 p.m. Chemistry and Biological Science. The last class of the day. He trudged through the entrance, dragging his feet. 

This room was smaller than the rest. An island full of beakers and equipment sat in the middle, surrounded by a circle of small, rectangular desks. Two chairs at each, with little nameplates sitting neatly at their head. 

Assigned seats. Internally, Dimitri groaned. 

He was almost late for the class, yet nobody seemed to mind. Several students had already sat down and settled into their seats, speaking amongst themselves. He slid past another wall of shared desks and sent a small wave to a few familiar faces from other school districts. One boy he’d pitched a fastball at, the other one had beat him at the science fair in 5th grade. A girl in the back of the class had been rumored to have a crush on him in 8th grade, but it turned out she just liked Felix. 

A few familiar faces, a few of them he couldn’t name. His brain felt weary after the long day, and he wasn’t looking forward to working on complex chemistry projects. It was a course that Patricia convinced him would be interesting, and he agreed out of politeness to his step-mother's passions. 

His desk was in the middle, past the island of supplies. It was an empty seat with a tag that said ‘Dimitri A. Blaiddyd’ in blocky handwriting. 

Beside his empty seat, sat her. 

Mint green hair. A pale face, lips drawn into a frown as she stared down at the paper on the desk. Her eyes were squinted, with a pair of glasses nestled atop her head. 

He froze. He wasn’t sure why. He did. The man walking behind him ran into his back and knocked him forward with a yelp of surprise. Dimitri stumbled from the sudden impact and caught himself on the desk. With the sudden thud, the mint haired girl looked up with wide eyes. Dimitri, leaning on the surface with both hands and a wide mouth, met her gaze instantly. 

Green. He’d never seen green eyes before. 

She erupted into a smile. It was something soft, almost embarrassed, but it lit up her entire face. “Are you okay?”

The man who had ran into him passed with a curse and an insult under his breath. Dimitri shot him a glance, “Sorry.” He knew it would not be enough, everybody was grumpy around this time of day, right before dinner. This green haired girl seemed to be the only one offering a smile. 

He slid into his seat with the most awkward of laughs possible, “I’m okay, thank you. Just zoned out for a moment…” a pause, his eyes flickered to her hand, holding an inky black pen over a sheet of neatly condensed words, “I hope I didn’t…”

Her gaze widened. She stiffened up, and looked down at her paper. A black line had been drawn from the last sentence, to the corner of the page. She sighed and looked impassively at the line, as if it’s very existence was an annoyance, “It’s fine, it happens.”

What could he do? Buy her a new sheet of paper? Re-do her notes? They were so neat, rows upon rows of tiny handwriting. He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate his chicken-scratch. All he could offer was another, “I’m sorry about that.”

Her head tilted to face him, eyes wide. They were pale, odd looking. It was common knowledge that green eyes had faded out from human genetics long ago, but _this_ girl had them. Perhaps she wore colored contacts. “It’s okay, really. I’ll survive, somehow."

Somehow. He offered another: “Sorry.”

She shook her head and returned to the paper. She drew on the jagged, accidental line, making a square, a triangle, turning shapes into a crude house like the kind he would draw as a child. She drew a sun in the corner, and a cloud, and a very large flower beside the house. 

“Fixed,” she nodded, “Now it’s a beautiful illustration.”

He peered at the shakily drawn house, “I’d live there.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll sell it to you,” she twisted in her seat and held out her hand, “Byleth Eisner, happy to do business with you.”

The class around them was beginning to quiet down with the arrival of Professor Hanneman. He lowered his voice, and sent her a close lipped smile, taking her hand and trying to not flinch at the coldness of her palm, “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, happy to have business be done with myself, I guess.”

“That’s a long name.” She shook his hand again, a second time.

Her skin was like ice, seeping down his arm and giving rise to goosebumps. He resisted the urge to shiver. “You can just say Dimitri.”

She shook his hand a third time. “Okay, Dimitri. I actually don’t have a middle name.”

“Really?”

Another shake of his hand. He couldn’t help the shiver that tingled down his spine, the shake of his shoulders, and his surprise at the sheer chill of her skin. She frowned and pulled her hand back, “Sorry, I’m just nervous and trying to be funny. You see, it’s satirical because people don’t usually shake hands four times in a row.”

“I… I assumed as much.”

As if in pain, she grimaced and turned aside. Professor Hanneman took the head of the classroom, hands behind his back, waiting patiently for the murmuring to die down. Dimitri sent her another hesitant glance as she glared down at her neat notes and continued to doodle more flowers around the crude house in the corner. 

He wondered if he made her feel bad. He didn’t think anything wrong of her, and her attempt at humor. It was, truthfully, his particular brand of eccentricity, though it needed a pun. This Byleth Eisner without a middle name had explained her joke so factually that he’d been caught off guard by it. Her face had stayed blank, her eyes held no amusement. It was satirical because people don’t usually shake hands four times in a row, according to her. He supposed that she was right, they didn’t. 

Hanneman cleared his throat to begin, “We’ll just get right into it, won’t we?”

Silence in response. Crickets. 

He sighed in defeat, “I assigned the seating randomly, if there are any problems, simply ask me to trade and I’ll consider it. I might even move some of you myself,” his eyes landed on a boy in the back chewing gum and spitting it into a girl’s hair, “But it depends. Respect me, and I’ll respect you.”

Silence again. A soft squeal from the girl with gum now in her hair. A laugh from the back of the classroom. Dimitri rested his cheek in his palm and leaned on the desk, already finding his mind drifting away. The warmth of his hand returned almost instantly. 

“Your desk partner is your lab partner, do try to get along. Our first project this year is to research the effect of mercury on the environment…”

Blank faces. 

A sigh, “Turn to page three of your syllabus.”

The room filled with the sound of students reaching into their bags and rustling papers. Dimitri was organized when he wanted to be, but the anxiety of moving into the dorms had disorganized him beyond repair. Most of his syllabus papers were gone, he knew this one in particular had been left on the fridge of his home, where Patricia tacked it up for him to remember. It was the thickest of them all, and thus the most important. He had never read it. 

Next to him, Byleth watched from the corner of her eye. She kept her hair wild around her head, nearly in her face. Her nose was sloped, while her cheeks were round in an almost childish shape. As she watched Dimitri pretend to dig around in his bag, she bit her lip. 

Slowly, hesitantly, she slid her syllabus across her desk to his. She said nothing as he sat up and looked at the paper, then to her. She merely raised one eyebrow, and tilted her head. 

It was decided, then, they would share. Nodding, she turned to page three, as instructed, while Professor Hanneman continued to drone on at the head of the room. 

Dimitri rested his elbow on the table - this would never be allowed at home - and rested his cheek in his palm. Byleth’s eyes studied him, before she moved to copy his position and lean in. Under his breath, he whispered, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

A nod, the ghost of a forced smile, “No problem.”

“Everybody on page three? Okay? Good. Now look at paragraph 2B.”

Byleth rested a slim finger on the paragraph, her face blank, but not unpleasant. Dimitri sighed and settled into himself as the professor began to explain the labs. 

Class passed dreadfully slow. Dimitri felt himself dozing off before Hanneman dismissed them. His insomnia was unfair like that, always making him sleepy at the worst possible moments. He was sure the professor’s look could kill, judging by the sliver of fear he felt in response to his glare. 

It was only an hour of lecturing, but it felt like an eternity. He felt bad for closing his eyes so much, especially with Byleth kindly sharing her syllabus next to him. She slid the papers into her neat folder, entirely blank as she did so. Dimitri snuck a glance while she fit the folder back into her equally organized bag. 

She caught him looking and offered an embarrassed huff, “This won’t last long. I’m really not put together.”

“I try to be,” he admitted as he hoisted his satchel across his chest, “I don’t know how some people do it.”

“Yeah…” an impassive look, a far off stare. She worried her lip as her brows furrowed, and her eyes landed on his face. “I’ve never done this before.”

Pause. Processing. He narrowed his eyes in confusion, “What?”

“Gone to college.”

She said that as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He watched her in confusion, while her eyes widened. She turned away in regret, “I mean, I guess none of us have before.”

“Most of us…” again, once more, her hair and her eyes caught his attention far more than anything else. It wasn’t odd for women to dye their hair, but this was done so well, with no roots betraying her natural color. He wondered if she just had it done the other day. And her eyes, matching her hair exactly. It would be rude to lean in to see the outline of the contacts, but how he wished to confirm his theories.

Aside from the coloring, she was unnerving. She was odd. She looked almost unnatural, in a way. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

“Why’re you staring at me?”

Dimitri nearly jumped. He gripped the handle of his satchel and backed away, tripping over his own feet as he did. “I-I apologize! I was zoned out,” an awkward smile and the stupidest of laughs, “That was really rude of me, I’m sorry. Really.”

She put up a hand, “It’s okay, you don’t have to freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out!” He was freaking out. He was mortified. He had been staring at her so openly. She probably got that all the time, most women did. She probably hated him for it. He didn’t want his first encounter with a new person to be this creepy, it was like his worst nightmare. 

Byleth leaned back with her backpack clutched to her chest. “Chill. It’s okay to stare, I know I’m weird looking.”

“You’re not…” he bit his tongue, trying to process the correct words, “You’re not weird looking. Trust me.”

She gave him a look as if he was insane. Sliding past him, she made her way towards the door, “Do you think I should cover it up?”

Her hand was on her head, gripping her hair. Dimitri watched her uncertain expression with guilt cultivating in his chest, “No. No, it’s… it’s eye catching. I can catch you out of a crowd if you keep it, and it doesn’t look messy.”

“You can catch me out of a crowd?”

A bashful smile, soft and barely there, “I remember seeing you on move-in day. I just remembered because of the hair.”

Much to his surprise, Byleth looked as if his answer displeased her. She looked as if she was rethinking all of the decisions in her life. Dimitri didn’t like that look when Edelgard wore it, nor when Patricia wore, and not when his lab partner wore it either. It filled him with guilt. He’d said much the same thing when Edelgard dyed her hair that bright shade of silver. And while he didn’t think it was a _bad_ look, he had been utterly awkward about it, making his little sister self conscious for a few days. He didn’t want to stumble over his words and make enemies on his first day.

“You look fine,” he faked a confident smile, “It’s nice.”

She stared. Her face was curious, her lips in a thin line. Happiness flitted through her eyes, before she caught herself. With a deep, steadying breath, she turned away. 

“See you tomorrow. I’ve, uh… my, uh, my grandma’s dying. I just found out. I’ve got to go help her.”

Her anxiety caught him by surprise, like a fish with a sudden hook in it’s mouth. “Oh uh, do you need help?”

“Nooo,” a hesitant drawl of her words, and a grimace as if she was regretting every syllable, “She’s just on fire. I, uh, I left the oven on, you see. And...” she leaned on the doorframe with one hand, looking at him with flat eyes over her shoulder, “I mean I set my grandmother on fire.”

She set her grandmother on fire.

Did she have emotional problems? Her mood had changed so suddenly. She was frowning at him as if he’d told her all of his deepest, most disgusting secrets. Flabbergasted, he tensed, “You set her on fire?”

The classroom had emptied by then. It was only Dimitri and Byleth, save for Professor Hanneman in his office, and several slackers too far back in the classroom to hear their conversation. Byleth spoke in a nervous, high pitched tone, “Yep. I set my granny on fire. I’ve got to help her.”

“D-Did I offend you in some way? Your hair really does look nice, I just sometimes run my mouth without thinkin-”

Byleth huffed like a defeated child, “It’s fine.”

“No, really, it’s not. I don’t want to offend you-”

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” she gazed at him flatly, “It’s fine. Really. I just regret ever opening my mouth, I told myself I wouldn’t.”

He remained utterly confused. “I’m sorry, but this is like a complete 180.”

“Yep. I’m really bad at talking to people.”

His stomach churned with embarrassment, “So am I.”

She bit her lip, “Anyway, my granny’s on fire so I’ve really got to go.”

“Wha-“ 

It was all she had to offer. Turning on her heel, she ran down the hallway, out of his sight. 

Dimitri stood at the desk, clutching his bag. He blinked once, then twice. And he stared at the wall in sudden clarity. 

His lab partner was insane. How fortunate for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes, a few moments of interest for those who are curious, here you are my good people! Here are your tidbits, your crumbs of information! Feast upon them!
> 
> \- Byleth is physically like 20 in this au. Dimitri is 19
> 
> \- This will be explained later, but there was no Dimitri in the past. This isn't a reincarnation au, and for that I apologize. But there was a war between Nabateans and Agarthans. As mentioned, this will come to light in later chapters!
> 
> \- I AM GOING TO SHAMELESSLY REFERENCE TWILIGHT. HOLD ON TIGHT SPIDERMONKEY
> 
> \- This is half serious, half stupidity. And for that, I apologize.
> 
> \- There are a lot of Nabatean and Agarthan headcanons here
> 
> \- Because I want things to be easier than they actually are, one aspect of this au is that nobody besides Nabateans have green hair or green eyes. It's an anomaly and is super weird, but green eyes have faded out and the only way to have them is... to be a dragon, or wear colored contacts. It's kind of silly, but it be what it be.
> 
> \- Also I'm basing Nabateans more off the manakete of older games! So they do have dragon stones, this will also come into play later in the story. 
> 
> \- If you like it so far, leave a comment! I love you all and appreciate every bit of feedback. Stay safe and healthy and have a wonderful night!


	3. Fragility

His lab partner was insane. How fortunate for him.

“E-Excuse me?”

His plea was left unanswered. Dumbfounded, Dimitri stared at the spot Byleth had stood. She left as if her grandmother _truly_ _was_ on fire, racing down the hallway and weaving through the crowd at a speed he didn’t think such short legs could possibly move. She was gone in an instant. And she provided no explanation for her sudden change of mood. 

He checked himself in the reflection on his phone. Perhaps he had food on his face, or perhaps he smelled like onions and vinegar from those vending machine chips he ate earlier. There _had_ to be some explainable reason for the flipped switch in her brain. It had seemed like a perfectly normal, albeit awkward, conversation. 

Or perhaps, simply, she had an urgent need to pee. That was another possibility. 

His first day had seemed rather uneventful until then, and he supposed he should thank her for providing the one interesting thing that had happened so far. She had acted so undeniably awkward, undeniably nervous and tense. Dimitri himself often felt like running away from a ruined conversation. Yet, _he_ ’ _d_ at least have a better excuse than the elderly set ablaze. He found himself dwelling on her face in that moment, the fear in her eyes, and just how impressively quick she ran away.

Mentally exhausted, he left the empty classroom. Byleth stuck on his mind. The mood change, the odd behavior. Huffing, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat with Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid. While walking, he typed out a hesitant message.

_‘My lab partner is insane. How was everybody’s day?’_

Ingrid began typing immediately. Her message popped up as he neared the front doors of the building. _‘How is she insane? Did she stab you?’_

Of course she would be protective. What else did he expect from her? _‘She was friendly at first, and then she made a weird excuse about her grandma being on fire and ran off.’_

Sylvain began typing next. He usually did have his phone in his hand, the social butterfly he considered himself to be. _‘Were you hitting on her?’_

_‘No’_

_‘Maybe she likes you?’_

So natural that Sylvain would jump to that kind of conclusion. Dimitri rarely thought of such things, not comprehending that someone could ever like him. He didn’t even like himself, how could anybody else? ' _I don’t think it’s that. She was in a hurry to get away from me’_

Ingrid liked his message. Sylvain typed quickly to reply, ‘ _she probably thinks ur cute!’_

Something told him that it wasn’t a matter of attraction. It was a gut feeling, derived from the look in her odd colored eyes as she ran from him. 

Putting his phone away, he entered his dorm building. The elevator was still broken, and the stairwell looked as if it had never been cleaned it’s entire existence. He took the steps two at a time, and unlocked his room door as quietly as he could. His upstairs neighbor could be heard stomping around and listening to some dubstep monstrosity. A laugh echoed from the room next door. Dimitri and Dedue shared an annoyed glance while he plopped his bag down onto the floor and sighed. 

“Did you have a good day?” It was a question born from polite obligation, and the desire to have a normal interaction. 

Dedue highlighted a sentence in his textbook glared at the next paragraph as if it had done him a personal wrong, “Yes. It was fine. Did you?”

He sat on his bed and laid down atop the covers. Dedue would never force small talk for very long, a trait Dimitri was beginning to appreciate. He didn’t hover, he didn’t linger. He couldn’t have a better companion to live with.

“Yes…” a flicker of uncertainty and discomfort. It must have shown on his face, for Dedue closed his book and looked at Dimitri as a therapist would look at a patient. He only grimaced at the ceiling, “My lab partner for chemistry is a bit…”

He raised a quizzical brow. Dimitri sighed, he couldn’t bring himself to speak too harshly of her, he didn’t even know her. “She’s fine.”

Dedue mirrored his grimace, “I sat next to a man who picked his nose for an hour today.”

“A whole hour?”

“He stopped to sniff his finger at some point.”

Dimitri grimaced, “That sounds terrible.”

“It was.”

He rolled his head around to look at him. The uncertainty only continued to grow, pushing him to open his mouth to begin. “I think I scared her.”

A raised eyebrow, “Your lab partner?”

“Yes… I’m not sure what I said. But it had to be something.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Dedue was wise beyond his years. Sometimes, people were just weird for the sake of being weird. Dimitri oftentimes had to remind himself of that, though this situation felt different. Every inch of it felt like something new, something that could not be explained off as simply 'eccentric person does eccentric thing'. That look in her eyes haunted him as he dwelled on the answer, “She was so eager to get away from me that she claimed her grandmother was on fire.”

“...Was she?”

“I highly doubt it.”

“I see.”

A beat of uncertain silence. Dedue cleared his throat with a bout of awkwardness reminiscent of his lab partner’s, without the elderly being on fire aspect. Perhaps that was simply how _everybody_ acted on the first day of the semester, it _was_ a stressful day after all. 

“Maybe she… thought you were interested in her?”

A pregnant pause. A thoughtful hum. It was yet another suggestion of it being a matter of attraction and misunderstandings. He didn’t care much to hear it from Sylvain, yet it sounded far different coming from Dedue. While the two didn’t know each other well yet, Dimitri could see the seriousness of his roommate. If he was suggesting something like that, it was not merely to tease. 

He rolled his head to look at him with a process of understanding churning behind his eyes. Dedue only pressed his lips together and looked back down at his textbook. He highlighted another sentence before responding, “Perhaps you should make it obvious you’re not interested in her, and that should clear up any misunderstandings.”

He spoke as if he knew exactly what had happened, as if he encountered that same situation many times before. Dimitri caught a glimpse of the framed photo sitting on his desk, an old looking picture of a teenage Dedue surrounded by girls with his features and coloring. Sisters, possibly, young and old. They surrounded him like a brick wall of protection and understanding of female nature. Of course Dedue would know how women worked, he lived with at least five of them. 

Dimitri only had one sister. If he ever stepped in to protect Edelgard from some creep, she’d yell at him for condescending her. Dedue’s experience was worth consideration. Sighing, he gave in, “I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. I could just apologize if I came off as odd.”

He glanced up to give him a look reminiscent of pride, like a father whose son just had a realization. “Just try to make her feel comfortable.”

Good advice for any situation. Dimitri, being a people-pleaser, felt a churn of embarrassment in his stomach. Anxiety and dislike, uncertainty of just _what_ he said earlier to give Byleth that impression. The two could not possibly do well in class together if this misunderstanding continued to fester. 

Silent, he dug his phone out of his pocket and held it above his head. Dedue continued to study in his own corner of the room, while Dimitri opened up the group chat once more. Felix had deigned to reply, other than with a thumbs down on a meme Sylvain had sent earlier in the day. At times, he wished Felix was more vocal, his harsh honesty usually proved to be exactly what he needed. 

_‘I’m going to tell her tomorrow that I don’t like her’_

A three second pause. Sylvain’s name popped up, _‘that’s harsh lol’_

Ingrid, _‘be nice!!!’_

_‘I will’_ Dimitri sighed to himself and continued typing, _‘I’ll just apologize if I came off as interested in her, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable’_

_‘Ohhhh such a gentleman! You can turn me down anytime you want sir dima’_

Dimitri decided to ignore that. 

Felix, finally, began to type. He had to have been watching, lurking, as always. He typed slowly and carefully, until the words popped up under Sylvain’s teasing message. 

_‘I hope you get slapped’_

Lovely, as always. 

  
  


* * *

Another day of college, the second one, to be exact. It was almost as stressful as the first. 

“They won’t let me change! The office lady said that all the class spots are filled!” An rueful sip of vanilla cappuccino, “Can you believe that? _I_ can’t!”

Dimitri could. There wasn’t another college that covered so many subjects in Fhirdiad, and people this far up in the North tended to stay here their entire lives. The only other options for college was the art school Edelgard attended, or knitting classes at the community center. _Nobody_ wanted to learn knitting classes at the community center.

Sylvain kept sipping on his overly sweet coffee as if it had done him a personal wrong, “I just can’t keep getting up this early. It’s asinine!”

“It’s 8 a.m.”

“Yeah? And?”

Dimitri sighed, “It’s not that early.”

“It’s the ass crack of dawn!”

It was not. Sylvain’s dramatics were more for his _own_ entertainment than anyone else’s, and Dimitri was far more patient with them than the average person. The two walked down the sidewalk with their respective drinks and various breakfast bagel flavors, having fought the long line at the local campus Starbucks.

Felix preferred walking to class by himself on the basis that Sylvain would annoy him so much that he wouldn’t be able to pay attention. It made sense. Dedue had stayed behind in the dormitory to cook a large breakfast, since his own class did not start for another hour. This left Dimitri and Sylvain to drag themselves to the coffee shop, fight their way through the crowd, and merrily complain about the prices of bagels as they walked to class. Dimitri had already finished his breakfast, and now could only complain about how he stole his sister's coffee mug.

‘Rise. Grind. Destroy The Patriarchy’ it said in girlish cursive. Edelgard was probably missing her cup. How could she rise, grind, or destroy the patriarchy without her pink coffee mug? It was entirely useless in Dimitri’s hands. But it kept his coffee hot, that’s what mattered. She’d stolen a few of _his_ things in the past as well - he really missed that blue hoodie.

He took a sip, a less ferocious and far less angry sip than Sylvain did. He could feel the heat on his tongue, but the bitterness was barely tangible. He’d begun to forget what coffee even tasted like. Sighing, he continued walking alongside his friend, “You’ll get used to waking up early.”

“That’s the problem,” he groaned, “I don’t _want_ to get used to it! I want to have freedom!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you _could_ just skip class. You’ll still probably pass, knowing you.”

Knowing him, the A+ student who would’ve been valedictorian if he had just turned in his homework on time. Sylvain could survive skipping a class or two, not that Dimitri approved. It would only be encouraged for the purpose of getting him to stop complaining about 8 a.m. feeling too early. 

Sylvain grinned as if he’d won a prize. He was not much taller than Dimitri, yet he ruffled his hair like a child's, “You’re complimenting me? Oh, how cute. You must like me.”

Tense, Dimitri pushed his hand away and frowned, though he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. Despite his disagreement about it being the 'ass crack of dawn', he was tired himself, and didn’t want to give Sylvain encouragement in his teasing. Yet, he was _always_ tired, the time of day didn’t change that quality. “I won’t for much longer if you keep doing that.”

“What? This?” Another wild grab for his already messy hair. Dimitri ducked and jerked back, while Sylvain grinned, “You already have a bed head!”

He did not. He combed it just this morning. The coffee in Edelgard's ‘rise, grind, destroy the patriarchy’ travel mug sloshed around while he took another step back to escape Sylvain’s irritation. “Sylvain, come on. I’m going to start walking to class alone.”

It was an innocent statement, and entirely in jest. Yet, Dimitri saw as his friend grinned for half a second, and immediately flickered his eyes somewhere else. Over his shoulder, at something in the distance. Dimitri’s chest slumped as he realized that he might have hurt his feelings. 

It wouldn’t be the first time. Sylvain was not clingy, nor sensitive, but he’d had enough people leave him in his life that even the _threat_ of leaving was careless. Mentally cursing himself for his lack of thought, Dimitri sighed in regret, “Listen, I’m sorry-“

“Is that her?”

A pause. A beat of silence. 

“What?”

Sylvain’s lips pressed together as he nodded his head in another direction. He kept his gaze over Dimitri’s shoulder, staring in the distance. “Her. The weird one. Is that her?”

The weird one. A derogatory statement that just fit far too well. Feeling a bit guilty, he stole a subtle glance over his shoulder and followed Sylvain’s eyes. 

And he stared. He could not help himself. 

She wore the puffiest coat he’d _ever_ seen. 

She wore the thickest wool gloves that could ever fit on a human hand. 

There were at least _three_ knit scarves of varying color wrapped around her neck. 

And to top it off, a little hat with cat ears. It was sparkly, and looked like it was made for a child. 

Byleth Eisner walked across the courtyard as if she was trudging through a blizzard. Her arms wrapped around her chest like they were the only things holding her up in the apparent tundra she lived in. Dimitri looked at his own short sleeved t-shirt and wondered if he was severely underdressed for something important happening that day. It was not cold, at least not for Fhirdiad.

“That’s her," he sent him a flat glance, "How’d you know?”

“I mean…” Sylvain grimaced, “Just look at her.”

He made sense for once. He was generally a good judge of character when his personal biases were set aside. Dimitri caught his stare and passed a look between them. She truly was weird. It wasn’t just Dimitri that noticed. Even other passersby sent her odd looks. 

A beat of silence. The two watched as she turned the corner and disappeared, walking to the administration building nestled in the back of the campus. 

“Let’s follow her.”

“Sylvain,” Dimitri managed to grip his arm as he brushed past him, “let’s _not_. There’s no reason to!”

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide, “There’s every reason to! Let’s go!”

“No-”

“Dima come on!”

“This is stupi-”

He yanked at his arm and pulled him hard across the grass. He tripped over his own feet as he kept up with Sylvain’s quick pace. All complaints were ignored, until Dimitri finally quieted down in response to the urgent shushing of his friend. In some childish way, he was curious too. How could he not be? Byleth Eisner _naturally_ attracted attention as she passed, and they were not the only ones who watched her with such interest. 

Sylvain slunk up against the corner of the science lecture hall. He peaked around the building as if he was a spy on a mission, “She’s walking to the admin office.”

Dimitri leaned over to see for himself, “Probably to do… admin stuff.”

A snort, “There’s no reason to go there unless you want to change classes!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Stop arguing,” he elbowed his waist, “there’s a mystery afoot.”

Dimitri straightened up with his sore ribcage and his huffy frown. He crossed his arms and stepped out of their hiding place, now in plain sight of the small office building ahead. Byleth disappeared through the doors as he confronted Sylvain, “You’re being stupid. Let’s just go to the office and act like we’re picking up papers, if she’s really changing classes then we’ll hear it. If not, then we’ll just be late for class.”

He perked up like a dog seeing a treat, “Oh I love it when you’re all sneaky. What's brought this on?"

"None of your business," curiosity, mainly, but he'd never admit it to the likes of Sylvain, "let's go."

With the command, they went. Sylvain was attempting to be overly nonchalant, while Dimitri merely crossed his arms and approached the door as if he was _not_ stalking his lab partner out of morbid curiosity. He nudged the door opened and stepped through, Sylvain on his heels. 

“I’m sorry Miss Eisner, but all of the classes are full.”

A gust of wind. He grabbed the door knob to keep it from crashing against the wall. His hair ruffled and blew into his eyes. Annoyed, he pushed his hair from his face and immediately met the green eyed glare of a blizzard-ready girl in three scarves and cat-ear hat.

If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. 

“Miss Eisner?”

Byleth seemed to jump back into the moment as if she was startled. Frantic, she turned her head to the receptionist and frowned. Her body twisted so that her back was to Dimitri and Sylvain, who stood in the doorway with wide eyes and open mouths. “There’s really no way?”

The receptionist pursed her lips, “No. I’m sorry.”

What had he done to her? Was this even _about_ him? Was he making baseless claims formed from his own anxiety?

Her glare of frustration seemed to tell him otherwise. She sighed, “Fine. Thank you.” Byleth pulled back from the desk and turned, her eyes avoiding Dimitri in every possible way. She kept her head down as she brushed past him. 

Standing still, he stared at the stained wallpaper ahead. It was a far better sight than the angry girl just inches away. Her shoulder brushed against his in what might have been a threat, one he did not understand. 

She smelled like lavender. The scent lingered as she left.

“Can I help you boys?”

Sylvain was in action almost immediately. He stepped past Dimitri and approached the desk to lean on it, a practiced pose that would ride his shirt sleeve up his arm, revealing the muscle underneath, coupled with a smirk that could dazzle any weak-hearted woman _willing_ to be dazzled. Dimitri came back down to Fodlan as he watched the receptionist turn pink and flutter her eyelashes at Sylvain. 

“Ma’am,” his smirk grew, and Dimitri wanted to groan aloud in annoyance, “I was wondering what the school’s stance is against bullying?”

“Sylvain, stop,” flatly, he took a step towards the door, ready to be out of this cramped office that smelled of flowers, “I’ll take care of it.”

He leveled him with a serious look, “It’s not cool what she’s doing. It’s rude and you don’t deserve it.”

“I’ll be fine,” a fake smile, “I’m a big boy.”

“But you’re…” 

It was times like these that Dimitri regretted telling his friends of his problems. Ever since 10th grade, Sylvain and Ingrid hovered over him more than his own step-mother. Their defensiveness was kind, and born out of love, but it smothered him whole. 

“But I’m fine.” Dimitri finished, “Let me handle it.”

The receptionist watched with wide eyes and pink cheeks. Sylvain turned back to her and smiled once more. The sound of her flirtatious giggle followed Dimitri while he stepped out of the office and let the door shut behind him, thankful to be out of that suffocating room.

He would handle it. He would handle it by himself, and it would be no problem. If only he knew what exactly there was to handle, and why this happened in the first place. He walked to class in silence, leaving Sylvain behind at the office; and thought of Byleth’s glare. No amount of overthinking could pinpoint the cause of her venom, nor the anxious feeling welling up in his stomach when he thought of it.

This feeling rose. It bubbled and heightened like a geyser. It spilled over out of his body and turned into anger. Anger, and confusion, and disbelief. 

What had he even done to her? 

* * *

“Pass out these microscopes- no, boy, like that! _Yes_ , there, now give one to every table!”

Professor Hanneman did not seem to care that Dimitri was late for class that day. His focus dwelled solely upon the scared looking boy with an arm full of old microscopes, as he attempted to put one on each table. Dimitri brushed past him and slipped into his seat beside Byleth. 

She was angry. She was so positively angry that he felt it in waves. He nearly choked on it. 

“Slides!” Hanneman held up clear plastic discs, “Write down what they are! Ashe, now hurry up and help me pass these out- don’t drop that! We don’t have the budget to replace that!”

“S-Sorry!” Ashe seemed to be at the professor’s every beck and call. Dimitri recognized him as the pitcher for his school’s rival baseball team, though the two had never gotten a chance to speak personally after games. They exchanged smiles as he passed out the slides with nervous fingers. 

“Don’t drop it Ashe! Come on, stop slacking!”

Laughter rippled through the class. Dimitri cast Byleth a curious glance, and saw her glaring holes into the wall ahead. 

It would be a very long chemistry class. 

He glanced away and rested his cheek in his palm, briefly fiddling with the clear disc of bacteria samples before pushing it under the microscope. The class was loud with the excitement of a project and discussions between lab partners, yet Dimitri’s table was quiet. It was stuffy, and thick with tension. 

What could he even say? How could he even begin a logical response to what he saw earlier in the day? She still wore the fluffy jacket and the gloves, even when the heater ran full blast in the classroom. He could not possibly be logical to such an illogical person herself. 

Yet, his patience was beginning to wear thin. Humming, Dimitri leaned in to look into the microscope, “It’s some sort of bacillus.” He leaned back to push the device towards her, “Would you like to check?” 

Byleth’s eyes flickered to it. He ignored her and wrote down his answer on his paper, feeling her gaze burn holes into him. Finally, she grimaced and turned the knob on the side of the microscope, leaning in to look for herself. 

Silence. She frowned and leaned back in her seat, nudging the device back to him. 

Professor Hanneman was still hard at work bossing Ashe around at the front of the classroom. He piled more slides into his arms and nagged about getting fingerprints on the tops of them. Ashe attempted to pass out the slides with the challenge of not dropping any, and it proved a good distraction for Dimitri as he and Byleth ignored each other. 

A silence between two people had never been so deafening. As Ashe set another slide down on their shared desk, he found himself fiddling with it as an excuse for something to do. _Anything_ to do, anything other than acknowledging her. 

Goddess, it was hard. Anxiety rose in his stomach again, followed by hot anger. And finally, _finally_ he felt as if he was about to crack. 

“I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable yesterday.”

It was a murmur under the noise of the students around him. She should not have heard it so easily, yet her head tilted in his direction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her eyes widened as she processed his mumbled words. 

“You didn’t.”

That was enough of a surprise for him to lift his head and finally look at her. She did not face him, instead opting to glare out of the window. Dimitri straightened in his chair, “Then what did I do?”

Her brows furrowed. Her hair was staticky with the many layers of wool scarves that hung around her neck. It floated around her in an almost comical way, if not for the venom in her eyes and the twist of her lips.

“...Nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

Ridiculous. Outrageous. He wanted to bang his head on the desk from frustration. 

Before he could possibly continue questioning her, professor Hanneman approached the table and snapped his fingers to grab their attention. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and his mouth was set into a disapproving line, “Blaiddyd, Eisner, get to work. You’re holding the whole class behind.”

Right. _Right_ , chemistry and actual learning. Logical things that could make sense, unlike the girl beside him. Dimitri nodded in relief and got to work on looking at the next slide, though his throat threatened to squeeze shut with the sheer discomfort of Byleth's eyes sticking onto him. He felt as if he was suffocating under her glare, as if his very existence was an offense to her. 

That had to be it. That had to be the answer. It was not anything he said, it was who he was. 

When the professor announced that class was over, Byleth was up and out of her seat before anyone else, gone in an instant.

* * *

Lambert was getting on Dimitri's nerves tonight. Yet, what else was new?

“When _I_ was in college, I never came home! I partied all night and drank tons of beer!”

“I’d really prefer that Dima _not_ drink tons of beer, sweetie. That’s really very dangerous at his age. He could become…” Patricia paused and glanced around, then leaned in close to her husband and whispered, _“an alcoholic.”_

It really was odd how short his patience was tonight. Dimitri could usually put up with his father and step mother’s antics like a christened saint. Edelgard was the snappy one, _she_ was the one who glared and got frustrated. Their roles were entirely reversed. 

“Mother,” he set his fork down, “I don’t drink.”

Edelgard snorted before anybody else could answer, “I do. I tried this thing called an electric screwball the other day with Dorothea, it’s where you lay salt out on someone’s arm and-”

Lambert gasped, “T-That is quite enough young lady!”

“What Lambert?” She slammed her fork down and leaned on the table, her palms flat and eyes narrowing at her step father, “I thought you wanted me to have the true college experience? Or does that only pertain to Dimitri? Are you saying women should never have fun?” 

And there they went again. A flicker of frustration grew in Dimitri's stomach at the sudden chaos of his father and sister. He should've known to not scold her for her choices and freedoms. _Everybody_ knew to not criticize Edelgard for what she did in her free time. Lambert desperately tried to regain his dignity, “N-No!”

“What’re you saying then? Are you being sexist? I can do whatever Dimitri does, and probably better!”

Probably. He waved his hands around frantically, “I don’t doubt th-“

“Then what’re you saying?”

Dimitri felt a migraine coming on. The light shining over the dining table was too bright, and Edelgard was too loud. Patricia tipped back her wine glass and finished it off as the war between father and step daughter continued across the table. 

He had decided to come home for dinner that night since Edelgard would be there as well. It had not even been a full week of living in his dorm quite yet, and he found himself missing the familiar yellow walls of his childhood home. Aside from the comfortable surroundings, Patricia’s food was far more nutritious than the granola bars and bagels he’d been living off the last several days. Even if he could not taste it. 

He would stay the night there, and go back to classes in the morning. His step-mother and father’s house was only a short walk from the campus, and he only stayed in the dorms by the insistence of Lambert. Yet, Dimitri suspected that the pressure for him to move out was simply so he could move the treadmill out of the garage and into his old bedroom.

“If you wanted him to have the full college experience,” Edelgard had calmed and was explaining her ideas to Lambert as if he was a child, “then you should’ve sent him to where I’m going. I’m pretty sure I saw my history professor at a riot the other day.”

Dimitri stuffed another piece of roast into his mouth, “I don’t want to go to riots. I don’t like getting tear gassed.”

It was an unfortunate accident of several years ago, when he went to a protest to pick Edelgard up - she had her violin lessons in 10 minutes and still had not left the protest. It was just his luck that the police arrived at the same time as he did, and the rest was a terrible, horrible memory. Edelgard and Patricia picked him up from a holding cell two hours later with the biggest smirk he’d ever seen on her face. 

Suffice to say, from what Edelgard described, the art and music university of Fhirdiad was not really his preferred crowd. He'd like it if he could never be tear gassed again, that would be nice.

“Come on,” she nudged him with her arm, and pulled her phone out of her pocket, “my professors are all really interesting people. There’s this one…”

Patricia frowned, “Edel, no phones at the table.”

“Sorry,” she glanced up, “just one second, okay? I wanted to show him…” she opened up the Facebook app and scrolled through her search history, smile breaking out on her lips as she found the name ‘Seteth Eisner’ towards the bottom.

Eisner. Eisner. Was it a common name? He ignored Patricia's disapproving tsk as he leaned in to see the screen. Dimitri knew this drill. Edelgard researched nearly everybody she came into contact with, teachers and students and coffee shop workers alike. She preferred knowing everything she could about a person before even _considering_ an acquaintance with them. This gave her considerable skill in the art of social media stalking, something that came in handy far more than Dimitri would’ve ever thought. 

This ‘Seteth Eisner’ had no profile picture. His page was public, but maddeningly bare. Dimitri didn’t have Facebook, yet he could tell that this man knew how to use it even less than he did. There was no background picture, and no information about himself present. Yet, it was an obviously active page. The very first post he saw was a chain-mail about viruses, the kind of chain mail he’d only ever see on his grandparents social media. 

“What about it?” Dimitri glanced at Edelgard as she scrolled down his page. Her lips quirked into the smallest of knowing smiles as she found what she was looking for, and zoomed in for Dimitri to see. 

“Look at them. He’s my religious philosophy teacher. Look at his family.”

Dimitri’s stomach churned in a familiar, unpleasant way. 

"They're all..." Edelgard sighed and shrugged, "I don't know how to describe it. I just thought it was interesting that they _all_ look like that."

Byleth Eisner stood in the corner of the photo, lips parted and eyes dim. Her hair was mint and wild, her skin pale and snowy. 

And everybody else in the picture looked nearly identical to her. 

They all had their arms over each other’s shoulders. The only man in the picture looked uncomfortable with his awkward smile and uncertain eyes. His hair was a darker shade than Byleth’s, but an odd color nonetheless. In front of him stood a younger girl of around 14 years old, her hair fluffy and similar to Byleth’s, her face innocent and her eyes doll-like. She grinned with ease as if she was used to posing in badly framed and poorly lit family pictures. 

It was the woman in the middle that caught his attention the most. She had her arm wrapped around Byleth’s waist, and tilted her head in the exact way he’d seen Byleth do when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her smile was warm and kind, but her eyes held an air of something he could not exactly place. Her coloring was the exact same as Byleth’s, and their features seemed to be shadows of each other. Not exactly alike, but not very different. They were obviously related to each other. 

Dimitri took Edelgard’s phone and looked closer. Across from him, Patricia cleared her throat with fake politeness. He shook his head, “I’m sorry. Just… Sorry, I just know her.”

Edelgard leaned in to peak at her phone, “Who?”

“Her,” he pointed at Byleth’s dim expression, “she’s my chemistry partner.”

His step-sister’s reaction was immediate. She yanked the phone from his hand and pulled away, eyes wide and ferocious. It took him by surprise how she stared at him with such disbelief and emotion, before nearly hissing, “ _She’s_ your bully?”

A beat of confused, worrisome silence. Dimitri stared, open mouthed and shocked.

Bully?

_“What?”_

Edelgard scowled with fury, “Dorothea told me that you have a bully!”

Lambert slammed his glass down and made Patricia jump in her seat. His expression mirrored his step-daughter's in ferocity, and his eyes burned with incredibly misplaced anger, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Dima?”

“Oh goodness,” Patricia covered her mouth, “oh my goodness, do you need help? Should I make some phone calls?”

He was taken aback, “No! I don-”

“I’ll kill her,” Edelgard was nearly growling, “I’ll make her pay for what she has done.”

Lambert copied her expression, though the anger looked far less threatening on him than her, “What _has_ she done? And why didn’t you tell us, Dimitri?”

“Because I don-”

Edelgard interjected once more, “Sylvain told Ingrid, who told Dorothea, who told me. She slapped you, right? And called you a manwhore?”

_“What?”_

“A manwhore?” Lambert roared, “She called you a manwhore?”

“No!”

“Oh goodness,” Patricia shook her head, “oh gosh, poor Dima.”

This was out of hand. This was _so_ entirely out of his control, and it would not be the first time something like it had happened. Everybody in his life was so protective over him, and it was never needed. He was not some fragile-souled boy, no matter what medication he took. And he was not some innocent rabbit being attacked by a wolf. Lambert and Edelgard continued to rant to each other, while his impatience only bubbled up further, and further, until _finally_ he could not stand to let them go on. 

Dimitri could not hold back the anger in his voice as he interrupted, “I’m _not_ being bullied.”

Lambert’s eyes widened at the harshness of his tone. He stiffened, and shut his mouth as if on command. He leaned back in his seat and took a long, silent look at him. A tense silence set in between the family, and Patricia was the only one who looked truly concerned. 

He sighed and attempted to smooth out his anger, closing his eyes so he would not have to look at their inquisitive faces any longer. “I don’t know where Dorothea got that story, Edel. But that’s not what happened.”

His step-sister was back in the moment in an instant, “But she _is_ bullying you, right?”

“No,” another heavy sigh, “she was just a bit cold to me.”

“I can talk to my professor if they’re related and-”

“Edelgard,” he snapped, opening his eyes, “you'd just make it worse.”

She recoiled at the tone in his voice. His chest filled with instant regret at the look on her face, as subtle as it was. Anybody who did not know her would not notice the flash of offense in her eyes, yet Dimitri had spent most of his life as her brother. He recognized that expression, that stoney set of her lips and the cold drifting into her eyes. He had hurt her feelings, when she was only trying to be helpful to him. 

Patricia and Lambert very wisely stayed out of the conflict between their children. They had learned long ago that Dimitri and Edelgard both preferred to resolve things on their own - the get-along shirt big enough for the two of them to wear at the same time was ripped to shreds and burned years ago. 

Dimitri put a hand on his sister’s shoulder, though she immediately brushed him off. She would not dare to be emotional about such things, to show weakness. Dimitri desperately wished he could take it back, “I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

A grunt. She stuffed a bite of potatoes in her mouth and ignored him. Her glare reminded him of Byleth’s.

“I know that you’re just protective, Edel. I was a jerk for snapping at you.”

“Yep.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Nope.”

Lambert snorted. Dimitri shot him a quieting look before going on, “I’ll give you back your cup.”

“...My cup?”

“The rise, grind and defeat the patriarchy one?”

“You have my cup?” She sat up in an instant, “Give it back!”

He smiled, “Will you forgive me?”

“No!”

“I’ll buy you a coffee tomorrow?”

“Give me my cup!”

“I’ll buy you a coffee in that cup tomorro-”

“You’re so damn annoying! Oh my god,” abrupt, she pushed her chair back from the table and stood, rolling her eyes, “I’m going to bed. Don’t bother me.”

She stomped out of the dining room with a dark cloud over her head. Dimitri watched her go with the most subtle of smiles on his lips, and a warm feeling forming in his chest. It almost felt like the past, something familiar and normal that would happen on a weekly basis before he moved out. He missed having Edelgard yell at him, as odd as that was. 

Lambert picked at his plate with his fork, tsking under his breath, “You shouldn’t antagonize your sister.”

Dimitri chewed on another piece of roast, “I’m not.”

A sigh, “Are you really getting bullied, son?”

The question was expected, yet it still caught him off guard. He looked up from his plate and registered the concerned expressions painting his parent’s faces. Patricia and Lambert were perfect mirrors of each other, despite their differences in features. They had been married long enough to have the same furrow of the brow, the same frowns, the same wrinkles of age. 

They were good parents. Dimitri took a moment to appreciate that fact. He had good parents. A good family. They truly cared for him, and he felt as if he didn’t deserve it. How could he ever repay them for the love they showed - The love he didn’t deserve?

“I’m okay,” a reassuring smile was all he could offer, the best sacrifice of appreciation he could possibly make, “I promise, I’m okay.”

* * *

He gave Edelgard her coffee cup back. He nearly died in the process, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. 

“Oooh, whipped cream,” a gasp, with both of her hands reaching out to take the pink travel mug from him, “and almond milk?”

He nodded, “Almond milk. It’s french press, from down the street.”

Her eyes widened, “You mean that shop that plays folk music constantly and smells like licorice?”

“The very one.”

Slowly, as if she was fearful of it being poisoned, she took a suspicious sip, and let out a satisfied sigh. She looked at a streetlight in the distance as an excuse to not face him head on, “I suppose I can forgive you. Just don’t ever snap at me again.” 

He smiled in relief, “I’ll try not to.”

“You better not. It’s not so easy to gain my forgiveness.”

He knew. Judging by the entire month two years ago when she refused to speak a word to him. In her defense, though, he did rear-end her new car. She had her reasons, that time. 

“I better get going, I just wanted to drop that off,” he took a step away as a bell in the distance rang, a loud sound that filled the air above him and poked at his growing migraine. “It’s 10, you probably should get to class.”

“Yeah,” she grimaced, “thanks for bringing my cup, I was looking for this.”

“I didn’t mean to take it.”

Edelgard looked at him in sarcastic disbelief, _"Sure."_

It was true. He'd rather _not_ be walking around with a pink sparkly mug that said 'rise, grind'. The 'defeat the patriarchy' part was fine and all, but he did not enjoy rising, nor grinding. Near the double doors of the main university building, he caught Hubert standing like a shadow and watching their interaction. Dimitri’s gaze flattened, “His jacket’s gotten longer. He looks more like a bat than ever.”

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, “Yeah, it’s called a duster. I bought it for him. Do you like it?"

"Sure." No. It looked stupid. It seems as if Hubert’s black jackets had gotten longer and _longer_ over the years. He resisted the urge to stare and stepped back, “I should go, I’ve got to catch the bus. I’ve got classes later in the afternoon.”

“Alright, stay safe,” she took another sip of her coffee and turned away. Crowds of students were filing into the various buildings scattered around the campus, all far newer and shinier looking than his own college. Even the trees looked newer and more polished. He supposed an art school would try it’s best to be artsy and decorative. “I’ll talk to you later. Don’t get bullied.”

“I’ll try my best.” He turned to wave at Hubert. As odd as his sister’s best friend was, he was still like family in some sort of twisted way. He’d slept on their couch more than Dimitri’s own friends. Hubert only stared at him while he waved through the crowd, until his expression of annoyance switched so suddenly, like a fire being blown out by the wind. 

Dimitri froze. 

Hubert’s eyes widened. His lips parted and he jerked forward, “Edelgard!”

It happened in half a second. There was no time to think, no time to breathe. 

The squeal of tires on wet pavement. It had rained last night and the roads were still damp. Fall was settling in with cold air and distracted students starting their college semesters. A flash of a red car hydroplaning across the parking lot. 

It was coming straight for him and Edelgard. The tires were screaming, the crowd around him was panicking, and all noise stopped. 

Dimitri did not have any comprehensible thoughts. His body moved before he could register what was needed. He pushed Edelgard aside, in the exact moment as Hubert arrived. She landed in his arms and Hubert yanked her further away from him. 

The car barely missed her. It was only by a few inches that she was pulled out of the way. The car would not hit anyone besides Dimitri, who’s legs had stopped working in his panic. 

One. Two. Three. It was there.

“Get down!”

It was on him- 

The feeling of an ice cold hand on his chest. The chill of skin burning through his shirt while a hand forced him to his knees. An arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling his head low, while a body knelt in front of him. 

Lavender. Screaming from the crowd and the sound of twisting metal.

There were gasps and murmurs all around him, dim and barely heard over the adrenaline in his mind. His heart raced in his ears like a drum, and his fingers shook. He didn't know whether it was from the cold arm holding him, or the excitement of a car skidding across the parking lot straight towards his body. His bones would break and his organs would crush under the pressure, he'd probably die. He'd probably die right in front of his little sister and then his father would cry, and there'd be a terrible funeral and he would haunt them all from the afterlife. 

But the car had stopped. 

And he was not dead. 

He was not a crushed body on the sidewalk. 

He forgot how to breathe. He forgot how to speak. He forgot how to move. The cold arm around his shoulder squeezed him tight and he gasped with surprise. 

One second, then two. Wind rushed past his ears. The world was coming back into view now. He wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed of him kneeling on the ground with this cold body against him, but something _had_ happened. Something odd, something inhuman. 

His eyes immediately met the dented side of the red car. It was close to his face, only inches from hitting him. He faced the passenger side door, and gasped as he realized that there was a human hand holding the car back, a human hand that had dented the metal so heavily that it would be beyond repair.

Dimitri leaned back to look at her in disbelief. 

Byleth Eisner took a deep breath, and met his gaze. 

“I _will_ kill you if you tell anyone about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not apologize for this stupidity!
> 
> also i've been gone for a bit! hello everybody! i deleted a bunch of stuff (not on here but on other apps and sites) so i'm sorry to have disappeared so randomly. Hopefully I'll get to updating everything soon! love u all, hope everybody is safe. If you enjoyed it then pls comment!


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